Second Star To The Right
by MichaelisIsMyAngel
Summary: Seventeen years. Seventeen years fatherless and made to be a lone wolf. Kai Hiwatari had always been alone. When a strange man walks into his life Kai is overrun with hate and want. There's only one person that can keep him together. TyKa


**SECOND STAR TO THE RIGHT...AND STRAIGHT ON 'TIL MORNING**

**A Beyblade Fanfiction**

**CHAPTER ONE:**

It was late, near midnight. A figure walked over a hill, his shadowy figure shrouded entirely in black, he held a shiny blade in his gloved hand, even through the darkness the blade let off a eery silver glow. He glanced behind him to make sure no one was following him, confident that he wasn't being followed, his hand closed around the shiny blade, diming it's silvery light. The figure didn't know if he'd even find what he desperately wanted to, he didn't know if the one he was looking for was even alive, but he would continue to hold onto the small sliver of hope that they'd be reunited again, someday, or maybe, if God in heaven willed it, maybe he would see him tomorrow.

Seventeen years was a long time. Seventeen missed years of his life. He wondered what he was like, how much he'd grown, if he looked like his mother. His mother. A woman of swanlike grace, beauty. The face of an angel, or rather how he believed an angel looked. He missed her evey day. Her face was always before him, in his sleep when he awoke. On his travels, through his struggles, her face, so perfect, so clearly defined, he almost believed she was there, so close he could touch her, smell her sweet perfume.

He sighed, and stopped where he was to estimate how far away the village he was heading for was. It stood out like a shadow, against the deep blue of the midnight sky. If he guessed correctly, it would take him a further day to get there, if he stopped, if he somehow continued on, without stopping, without sleep, he would get to the end of the hill the next night, which meant it would take him a few hours to get to the main part of the village At least he hoped so. His legs ached, the need for rest making his moves sluggish and forced. He would not stop. Even if he had to crawl there he would make it, even if he collapsed at its entrance he would never stop. Stopping could be the one thing that could make him miss him. He had to keep going.

As he decended the hill, a large cloud overhead burst and rain pelted down, stinging his body, making the grass beneath him turn to marsh. He stopped and hid the blade in the confines of his black coat and struggled on through the uneven ground, down and down. The water splashed into his boots making his feet almost numb with cold. "I must keep going, I have to see him." The darkness made it difficult to see in front of him, and with the light of the blade extinguished inside his coat, he could only depend on the few stars in the sky to lead him on his way. Thunder boomed and lightning flashed lighting up the darkness. The rain became trecherous.

"God in Heaven, hear me please, please let me see my son, please keep me safe. I need him to know I'm here" His prayers were not answered, the trecherous rain blinded him momentarily and the figure found himself trapped in rising mud, sinking down up to his knees. He grit his teeth and continued on, wading through the thick trap. "I must, I must find him. God in Heaven please-" He stooped thirty feet from the end, he felt himself sinking more and more into the mud now up to his neck. He tried with all his strength to pull himself out of the mud, the actions just making the muddy trap even more lethal. "Please, Please! I have to see him!" Defeated, and tired he stopped, sinking down, mud almost covering his face. "I've come so far, only to lose now. All my efforts failed-Am I-Am I ever going to see him again?" He didn't get an answer of course. Soon he was buried in the mud trap and he closed his eyes, waiting for death to claim him...

"I'm sorry Mr. Dickinson, your wife was a lovely woman, we will all miss her." The pastor said sadly, resting a hand on the elderly man's shoulder. Mr. Dickinson took of his glasses and massaged his tear filled eyes. He sniffed and looked at the pastor with a sad smile. "Thank you, Pastor. I appreciate your kind words" The pastor nodded, "I'm afraid I must go. I have really outstayed my welcome, take care Mr. Dickinson"

The white haired man nodded, "Goodbye Pastor." He closed the door after the Pastor had left and sank down into the kitchen chair, looking across at the empty place where his wife should have been. He finished his tea and brought the cup to the sink, rinsing it and setting it on the draining board. "Oh Angela" He whispered, "I miss you dear" He knew he should go to bed but he didn't wnat to spend another night in the room where is wife had been so full of life three days ago. He grabbed his cane from behind the door, his hat hanging on the back of the door. 'A walk. Yes, a walk will do me the world of good.'

He exited his house at the edge of the village closing and locking his door behind him, putting the key into his pocket. Dark clouds were filling the sky, threatening a heavy fall of rain, and more than likely a thunderstorm. "Just a short walk" Mr. Diickinson whispered softly. He walked through the village, watching as the lights in each house dimmed, it was late everyone would be heading to bed. He exited the village, strolling up the hill. As he made it almost to the middle, the skies opened up, and rain pelted down on him, thunder booming, lightning flashing. He turned to return home when a small light caught his eye, intrigued he made his way towards the source and gasped seeing a hand, in alarm he ran towards it, and reached towards the hand, pulling with all his strength and gasping when he pulled out the body of a young man, breathing heavily, his skin blazing with heat.

"Are you alright!? Say something son!" Mr. Dickinson called worriedly.

The young man groaned, opening his eyes part way revealing startling red irises, "Where is he? Please, tell me he's alive" The weak man grabbed Mr. Dickinson by his arm a desperate look in his eyes. "Please tell me!" Mr. Dickson's heart went out to this man.

"We can speak once we get you somewhere safe" He helped the man to his feet and put his arm around the man's waist leading him down the hill towards his village. The man shivered against him, bone shaking, shudders. Mr. Dickinson sighed, and took off his coat, draping it around his shaking shoulders. "We'll have you warmed up in no time son, just you wait. I'll take care of you"

"T-Thank you, you're v-very kind" "In this world dear boy, kindness is all that keep us going don't you agree?" "Yes"

As they approached the edge of the village, the man's eyes widened, "W-was I-This close, all a-along?" He coughed, "Hush now son, don't strain yourself we're almost there. As they approached Mr. Dickinson's home, a relieved smell spread over the man's face, and he fell heavily against Mr. Dickinson, "I-I'll find him-I know I'll find him, thank God" His knees gave in and he fell heavily, Mr. Dickinson, catching him, "Come, lie down, get out of those wet clothes, we can talk in the morning"

"We'll f-find my son?" Mr Dickinson frowned, "We'll speak about it when you gain your strength back."

The man nodded and once he was dressed in dry clothes, he fell into a deep sleep.

Mr. Dickinson was quite troubled, the young man was very strong opinionated about finding his son. He took off his hat and set his cane back in the corner sitting down at the table with a cup of coffee. "I don't know Angie, do you think he's here for a reason?" Mr. Dickinson sighed, he'd find out soon enough.

Mr. Dickinson awoke to alarmed yells and screams, sirens spillitting the early morning and the pungent smell of smoke filling his nostrils. "What on earth?!" He hurried to check the door, hearing someone banging fiercely on it, "Fire! FIRE!" Indeed there was, an orange shroud engulfing all in its path, homes were up in smoke, people struggled and ran around carrying belongings and children, dressed in their night clothes. "Get out! We need to get out of here!" A small boy ran past him almost tripping had his mother not caught his arm. "You have to leave mister!" With a rapid beating heart, Mr. Dickinson hurried upstairs to grab a few of his items, his keys to his penthouse in Tokyo district. A holiday home. As he grabbed his cane he stopped, he was missing something, a very important something, the stranger! The young man was lying in his living room. He tossed his suitcase aside and with as much effort as he could muster he shook him. "Wake up, come on son, we must get out of here!"

It didn't take thorough speculation to realise that this man's fever had risen, he managed to pull him up, wrapping his arm around his waist. By now smoke was floating in under the door, Mr. Dickinson began coughing as his air was restricted, he grit his teeth sweat standing out on his forehead, if anything he would get this young man out, he would care for him and help him search for the one thing he desperately wanted to find. His son. Whoever he was. He grabbed the suitcase, dragging it behind him, managing to get outside just in time before his home collapsed into rubble behind him.

**I FOUND MYSELF AIMLESSLY TYPING SOMETHING ON MY LAPTOP WHEN I WAS TALKING TO MY SISTER STARSTRUKKXX ON THE PHONE AND ****THIS**** HAPPENED. IT'S VERY ODD FOR ME, BUT IT'S HERE NOW SO WHY NOT POST IT ON FOR THE WORLD TO SEE...KIND OF...PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! LOOKING FORWARD TO HEARING FROM YOU :)**

**-BeholdTheAngstQueen**

**NOTE:**** THIS IS PAIRED: TyKa**


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